Holy Land — Mary Geoise
Several days after returning—
Shamrock was summoned once again.
The hall was silent.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
The Gorosei stood in their usual positions, their expressions calm—
But their presence carried absolute authority.
One of them spoke.
"Erase everything related to Gol D. Roger."
No hesitation.
No emotion.
"His bloodline."
"His crew."
"Every trace connected to him."
The command was simple.
But its meaning—
Was absolute annihilation.
Orders spread instantly.
The Marines mobilized across the entire world.
Fleets departed in waves.
Bases emptied.
Commanders were dispatched without rest.
Their objective—
Find the child Roger left behind.
And erase him.
Completely.
As for Shamrock—
As a Divine Knight—
His task was different.
"Track down the remnants of Roger's crew."
"Kill them."
A single pirate crew—
Had triggered a global purge.
An entire era—
Shaken by the fear of an unborn child.
Because in their eyes—
"If that child is allowed to grow…"
"…with the remnants of Roger's will guiding him…"
"…he may surpass even his father."
"…and shake the very foundation of this world."
Shamrock listened.
Silently.
Then—
Nodded.
To him—
It didn't matter.
Hunting.
Erasing.
Destroying.
It was all the same in those Celestial Pigs eyes.
A game.
The Four Seas — One Year
Shamrock descended from the Red Line.
Not as a ruler.
But as a wanderer.
For an entire year—
He walked.
Through bustling towns of the West Blue.
Through lawless ports Infested by the Mafia in the North Blue.
Through silent, abandoned islands swallowed by time in the South Blue.
He simply experienced the beautiful world.
The wind carried whispers of his presence.
The waves reflected his silhouette.
But the Roger Pirates—
Were gone.
Completely.
No sightings.
No confirmed rumors.
Even their legends began to fade—
As if the sea itself had swallowed them whole.
The massive manhunt—
Yielded nothing.
A waste of manpower.
A drain on resources.
And in that vacuum—
Chaos bloomed.
The Four Seas—
Weakened.
Defenses stretched thin.
And pirates—
Multiplied.
Wild.
Unrestrained.
Like beasts released from cages.
All because of one sentence—
"Go find it."
"I left everything there."
That single declaration—
Had ignited the world.
Countless ships set sail.
Rookies.
Veterans.
Madmen.
Dreamers.
All racing toward the same destination—
The New World.
Where the ultimate treasure—
Was said to lie.
Ambition surged.
Violence spread.
Dreams clashed.
This was no longer something the World Government could suppress.
It was a tide.
And tides—
Could not be easily stopped.
Shamrock
Amidst all of it—
He walked alone.
Untouched.
Unbothered.
Like a being standing outside the era itself.
Power—
At its peak.
Calm—
At all times.
A predator—
Without urgency.
New World — A Certain Sea
War.
Bloodshed.
Thousands of pirate ships gathered.
A massive fleet—
Encircling a single island.
Layer upon layer.
No escape.
No gaps.
Their target—
Douglas Bullet
"The Devil's Heir."
Every pirate present—
Had lost to him.
Crushed.
Brutalized.
Destroyed.
Now—
They had returned.
Not as individuals—
But as a force of vengeance.
Ever since Roger's execution—
Bullet had lost his purpose.
And in that emptiness—
He unleashed destruction upon others.
Genocide.
Rampaging through the New World.
Crew after crew—
Falling.
Nearly a hundred pirate crews—
Erased within a single year.
And now—
This was the counterattack.
The final stand of the survivors.
At the center of the island—
Bullet stood alone.
White stone beneath his feet.
Wind roaring through his open coat.
Before him—
An ocean of enemies.
Behind him—
Nothing.
A faint smile curved his lips.
Cold.
Dismissive.
"The weak…"
His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"…are always the same."
"They gather together…"
"…to pretend they're no longer afraid."
At Sea — Shamrock's Warship
A Special Agent approached swiftly.
Lowering his head.
"Lord Shamrock."
"A message from the Marines."
"A former member of the Roger Pirates has been located in the New World."
A brief pause.
"Should we pursue?"
Shamrock sat beneath the mast.
Calm.
Still.
He lifted his gaze.
"…Left the Roger Pirates…"
A moment of thought.
"…Douglas Bullet?"
The agent nodded immediately.
"Yes."
"The Marines have already initiated a Buster Call."
"This time, both Garp and Sengoku are personally leading the operation."
"There is no possibility of escape."
Silence.
Then—
Shamrock stood.
Slowly.
He walked toward the bow of the ship.
The sea wind surged.
His cloak fluttered violently behind him.
His voice—
Calm.
Absolute.
"Contact the Fleet Admiral."
A pause.
"Tell him—"
"I will handle this."
"The Marines…"
"…are to withdraw."
The Special Agent froze for a split second—
Then immediately lowered his head.
"Yes, sir!"
No doubt.
No hesitation.
Because everyone understood one thing now—
If Shamrock stepped in—
This was no longer a battle.
It was an execution.